


More Than Enough

by hedonistic_opportunist



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 02:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedonistic_opportunist/pseuds/hedonistic_opportunist
Summary: Theon stops her, telling her he can't pleasure her, but Sansa shuts him up again, knowing that it's not true. Because even if they do die tonight, this is more than she could have envisioned, certainly more than Ramsay could have ever given her.





	More Than Enough

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, this was going to be more explicit, but less is more? There's a possibility of me revisiting this pairing again in the future though, so um, keep your fingers crossed for more (bad!/self-indulgent) fic from me XDD. 
> 
> All concrit accepted. 
> 
> Warnings: Present tense; self! beta'd; abrupt ending. Use of italics.

 

* * *

Sansa isn't sure what she expects from _this_. A long time ago, she would been able to – in fact, she would have gone into embarrassingly explicit detail on how she wanted this to go.

 

But then was then and now is now. And the only thing Sansa wants is to _forget_.

 

So when Theon looks at her, eyes wide and confusion etched on his face, she only kisses him, silencing any protests he's about to voice. Because decency and dignity don't matter at the moment, not when the Night King is marching towards Winterfell with his undead army and definitely not when they both could be dead by dawn.

 

He tastes like salt and sea water. Moreover, as Sansa runs her hands through his hair, she muses over how soft his blond curls are, and how he sighs just a little when she runs her tongue against his underlip. She likes it, and is more than amazed at how he succumbs to her, letting her sit on his lap, allowing her to touch him just a little more.

 

She's hungry in a way she never been before, and it's just a little horrifying but also so very exciting. She can't stop herself from pressing further up against him, her breasts against his chest, and it's then that she realises how desire works. It's not frightening, but warm, just like Theon's skin and hot like his breath against her cheek, and gentle like his kisses on her neck --

 

Theon stops her, telling her he can't pleasure her, but Sansa shuts him up again, knowing that it's not true. Because even if they do die tonight, this is more than she could have envisioned, certainly more than Ramsay could have ever given her.

 

And that's why it's more than good enough.

 

* * *

 


End file.
